Page 107 of Tainted

I scooped her in my arms, and Zara locked her legs around my waist. “You did so good, Babygirl.”

A hot shower brought her back to life as we laid in bed but I could tell something was on her mind. I resisted the urge to fix it for her and waited until she was ready to share.

“I saw Sydney at Aire’s party.”

“Did y’all kiss and make up?” I asked.

She frowned and shoved my arm.

“Did you?”

“Nah, Syd isn’t fucking with me right now. I’ll holla at her soon.”

“Have fun.”

Zara was too proud to admit it, but she thought she was out of my league. Truth be told, I was out of hers.

"That lip’s gonna trip someone if you keep stickin' it out like that," I teased, leaning in a little closer.

She glared at me, but it wasn’t serious. It never was when she looked at me like that. I reached out, brushing my hand against her lip, barely touching it.

“You’re not funny.”

“So tell me about these other nigga’s you’ve been with so we’re even.”

“It’s a short history lesson, unlike yours. I broke up with my ex before moving here. He didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanted something different.”

“That means he was nice and boring.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being nice. You’re nice to me,” Zara challenged.

“I’m a sucker for curls and big foreheads. What can I say?”

Zara shook her head while tucking her feet under my leg and flipping through the channels. I’d barely registered what was on the screen until I saw Sydney's face. My jaw tightened as I watched the interview unfold. Her father was doing what he always did. Manipulating the narrative, acting like he was the savior of whatever cause he had attached himself to, but Syd’s words froze me.

“The miscarriage... it changed everything for our family,”She glanced off-camera for a moment, gathering herself. “It showed me how fragile life can be. I’m not just a daughter standing behind a politician. I’m a woman who wants to see real change. I hope, through my story, we can push for policiesthat support reproductive health and rights in a meaningful way.”

This interview wasn’t just about her miscarriage. It was about the public image her father had crafted, an image that needed to be carefully maintained, especially with his political campaign in full swing.

“Was it yours?” she asked quietly, her brow furrowed, remote still in her hand.

The knot in my chest tightened until I could barely breathe, let alone answer her question. I hadn’t talked about it in so long. But here it was, back to that dark place like it had never gone away.

“Talk to me,” Zara insisted, turning the television off.

“It’s not much to say,” I started, then my voice cracked. “Syd got pregnant, and it wasn’t a thought to keep it or not. Not because we planned on some love child,” I felt the need to clarify, “I just never saw myself like I am with you, so it just felt right to keep it. Syd would be a good mom, and she knew I’d always be there for her.”

I shook my head, remembering the hope I’d held when Syd was rushed to the hospital. “But then Syd got in an accident, the car flipped, and she lost her. A little girl.”

The crazy part was I never thought I wanted kids until I lost one.

“Now she’s usingherlike some sympathy card to get her father elected like that shit is something to play with.”

The grit in my tone made Zara hesitate before she shifted closer and wrapped her arms around me. The warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her breathing anchored me.

“I’m so sorry, Kenyon,” she whispered, stroking my back in small, soothing circles.

Going any deeper with Zara was a risk, but she carried a type of peace I never knew I needed. Sydney was in her feelings aboutZara, but she should’ve been praising her. She was the only thing keeping me from doing her father in the worst way right now.

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